


please don't leave me

by ventmethis



Series: Stiles and Lydia Post-Wild Hunt [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Established Relationship, F/M, PTSD, Separation Anxiety, Stiles, Stydia, Wild Hunt (Teen Wolf), but established enough, ghost riders, lydia - Freeform, not really established, they're still brand new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21050108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ventmethis/pseuds/ventmethis
Summary: Lydia deals with mild separation anxiety after they save Stiles from the Wild Hunt.





	please don't leave me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first take at writing anything Teen Wolf related so I hope it doesn't suck too terribly. 
> 
> Small disclaimer: I am not a therapist or psychiatrist and I have actually only ever taken one single Psych class ever and I did not do well. That being said, I am in no way a professional nor do I have much experience with separation anxiety or any form of PTSD. I thought it would be an interesting concept considering in the show, all of this shit happens and everyone just comes out ok after - which is probably unrealistic.

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to notice that Lydia hasn’t let him go since they walked out of the school building. After the Ghost Riders left completely and Stiles, Lydia, and Mr. Stilinski were able to leave the school, Stiles had offered to give Lydia a ride home. She kept her grip tight on his arm the entire walk to his jeep, and when they got in the truck, she continued her tight grip – her knuckles turning white. 

Stiles was in no way complaining; he’s waited years for this moment. But he can feel his arm already starting to bruise and he’d be lying if he said she wasn’t hurting him. 

“Hey, Lydia?” She turns her head to look at him, “hmm?” Stiles gives her a small smile, admiring how cute she looks despite being absolutely drained. 

“You ok? You haven’t let go of me since we left the school, and as much as I love you hanging on to me, you’ve got a killer grip.”

Lydia sits up a little straighter and loosens her grip. It was as if she hadn’t even noticed that she was holding onto him at all. “Sorry, I uh, I was stuck in my head, I guess.” She reaches over with her other hand to rub the spot where her fingers were nearly cutting into his skin, and they would have had she not recently trimmed them down. 

“Can we go to a café? Or something?” Lydia asked, looking over at Stiles with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Stiles can’t help but smile. He thinks back to just three hours ago when he was so close to just giving up and losing all hope. Three hours ago when he thought he was never going to see his dad or Scott ever again. Three hours ago when the idea of Lydia Martin having a death grip on his arm and not wanting to let go was just a dream he had had countless nights since the third grade.

“Lyds, it’s almost one in the morning, the only thing open is an iHOP. And no offense, but I’ve never seen you look this fucking exhausted. I think you need sleep.” 

Lydia frowns at this, still looking at him as he continues driving. “Are you going to go home and sleep? Because for all I know, you’ve been wide awake for three months straight.” 

“You know it’s different, you’ve been through a lot today, and the last three months. I’ve been stuck in an empty alternate reality. I never really slept much before anyway. I’ll be fine.”

The eye roll that Lydia gave was accompanied by an exasperated sigh. “Then can we go to your house? And just talk? Maybe have some tea, please, Stiles?” 

And how could he possibly say no to the girl he’s been pining after for years? 

“Yeah, of course we can. But then you’re going to sleep, because you need it.” Stiles looks over briefly at Lydia as he says this, only taking his eyes off the road for a millisecond. The worried look on her face and the way she immediately goes into biting her nails doesn’t go unnoticed. 

\--

When they get to Stiles’ house, all the lights inside are off, indicating that his dad has already gone to bed. Stiles turns on the kitchen light, puts water in the kettle, and pulls two cups out of the cupboard. 

Lydia has already taken a seat at the table and she has her fingers in her mouth, biting away at her nails. Stiles smiles over at her and walks over to take the seat across from her when Lydia clears her throat and says, “do you think you could um, come sit over here by me?”

Stiles wants to think of this as strange behavior, but he’s never existed in a world where he’s kissed Lydia and it meant anything more than stopping a panic attack and he’s definitely never lived in a world where Lydia has loved him back. Maybe this all comes as a part of the Lydia package, and who is he to deny himself the pleasure of being loved by Lydia freaking Martin?

He doesn’t bother asking; he sits down next to her and pulls her hand away from mouth and holds both of her hands in his own. Lydia slowly lifted her eyes to look up at him, smiling as he took her hands and kissed them. Her stomach flips when he says, “I didn’t really have any sense of time when I was stuck in the Wild Hunt, but fuck, I missed you.” 

Lydia feels like she could cry. “I missed you too, I just didn’t know it right away. Sorry it took us so long.” 

Lydia is beyond happy to have gotten Stiles, and everyone else that was taken, back. She can’t deny the lingering feeling of guilt that sits heavy in her heart. Guilt for ever having forgotten about him in the first place. Guilt for not realizing she had loved him until he was already gone. And guilt for taking her sweet ass time remembering him.

“Shit Lyds, I’m lucky you guys did it at all. I don’t care how long it took, as long as I got to come back to you guys.” Lydia appreciates his reassurance, but it only eases the pain a little bit. Stiles must notice the sadness on her face, because as he stands up to go finish the tea, he uses thumb and index finger to pull her chin up to look at him and kisses her on the forehead. “You saved me, Lydia. You always do.”

When Stiles gets back to the table, he has two mugs with chamomile tea inside of them. “These should help get us ready for bed. Scott wants us all to meet up for lunch tomorrow, so we really should go to bed here shortly. You want to stay here tonight?” Something about the way Lydia held his arm the entire way to his house and the way she practically begged for them to do something other than taking her home told him that she wasn’t wanting to go home. So when she nods, he isn’t at all surprised. He also isn’t surprised when all the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering around and don’t stop until he’s finished his cup of tea. 

Stiles opens the door to his bedroom, finally feeling the weight of everything that has happened settle on his shoulders. He’s suddenly so tired, he thinks he could have fallen asleep at the table. He doesn’t realize how much he’s missed everything until he looks around his bedroom and sees all of his stuff, untouched. He can’t explain the relief he feels, standing in the door of his room. His eyes water at the thought of never seeing his crime board again, or never laying in his bed again. 

Lydia is observing him closely – noticing the shock he’s in. Whilst she can’t say that she understands the feeling, she can imagine it would be overwhelming. She rubs his back with one hand, has his hand in her other, and rests her forehead on his arm. “It’s ok. You’re home. We’re all here, and nothing has changed.” 

Stiles just nods in return and moves over to his dresser drawers, pulling out a t-shirt and pajama pants for both him and Lydia. “They’re probably going to be huge on you, but your current outfit doesn’t seem all that comfortable to sleep in.”

Out of respect for Lydia, Stiles turns the opposite way so they both can get changed and he doesn’t sneak any peaks without her permission. 

Lydia gets into the bed first, and a small panic rises in Stiles’ head because he’s only ever shared a bed with Malia before, and it took a lot of tossing and turning for them to figure out what worked best for them. Stiles stands there staring at the pretty strawberry-blonde girl in his bed, and he reaches his hand up to scratch at his head. Lydia raises her eyebrows in response, silently asking him what was wrong. 

“So uh, I have this thing, where I can’t sleep unless I’m in the middle of the bed. With Malia, we would spoon but like, I uh, I had to be the little spoon. I mean, I know that’s not really standard, but I don’t really know how to share a bed.”

Lydia stares back at him fondly and laughs. “I’ve never had to be the big spoon before, but I’m so tired that I’m sure it doesn’t matter how we sleep. As long as I’m by you, it’s not a problem. We can figure a real sleeping situation out later.”

Stiles climbs around her into bed and turns to face her, looking in her eyes and realizing that Lydia, the girl of his dreams, is in his bed and it’s not platonically. He leans down, puts a hand on her cheek, and kisses her. It doesn’t take long for her to start kissing him back. It’s slow but it’s powerful, like something that they’ve both been waiting years to do. It’s private, in his room, in the dark, and it makes Stiles feel everything in the world colliding at once. 

He pulls away and smiles at her before turning his back towards her. Her leg slides between his legs and she wraps an arm around him, vowing to herself that she’s not letting go of him any time soon. 

\--

The sun has finally stopped glaring in at Lydia through the windows. It’s just after two p.m. and she’s watching Stiles sleep, peacefully. She’s already texted the rest of the pack in their group message to let them know that it may need to be a later lunch, as Stiles was still sound asleep at noon when they had planned to go. 

She doesn’t want to wake him. She knows he must have been far more tired than he had let on because for a boy who doesn’t sleep well or much, he fell asleep minutes after his head hit his pillow and he shows no sign of waking up any time soon. 

Lydia also wonders if she’ll have the heart to tell him that whilst he claims he can’t sleep if he’s not in the middle of the bed, he seems to be doing just fine on the far side of the bed with his back pushed against the wall. She has now taken over the middle of the bed, trying to be as close to him as possible. Her fingers are running back and forth on his forearm. 

It’s hard to explain the way she’s feeling right now, and has been feeling since she walked into the locker room to save Stiles. There’s some strange feeling that pools in her stomach any time she’s not touching him, or not close enough to be touching him. She’s never experienced anything like it, and she can’t describe the feeling and she actually really doesn’t like it at all. It makes her feel terrible and nauseous. And the only thing that helps it subside is being close to him, which has her dreading the thought of going home tonight and sleeping in her own bed. Lydia is a smart girl, and she knows what feelings and emotions are and what the chemicals in your brain will do after you’ve been through something as crazy as this, but it doesn’t make it any easier to fully explain or come to terms with. She figures she will have plenty of time to talk to Scott about it and she doesn’t want Stiles to be around when she does talk to Scott, but she really can’t stomach the thought of Stiles not being around either. 

Her stomach growls, reminding her, not for the first time since she woke up, that she’s hungry and she knows they’re going to get food with the pack today which doesn’t help. Whilst she still doesn’t like the idea of waking Stiles up, she does it anyway because she wants food and she knows they’re all waiting for her text too. 

It takes a little more effort than she imagines it usually would – although she really has never been in a position to wake Stiles up before. She starts by whispering his name, slowly getting louder each time. When that doesn’t work, she moves to lightly nudging him and after the third hard nudge, he finally stirs awake. 

“Good morning, sunshine. Our friends are waiting on us and I’m rather starving,” Lydia says as she intertwines her fingers with his. Stile stretches his legs out and yawns, before asking what time it is. “A little after two,” Stiles’ eyes widen and she laughs, “feel well rested?” 

“Feel like I could sleep for three more days if I tried, but I’m good for now. It should be illegal for you to look this pretty in the morning, Lydia.”

She can’t help the blush that creeps up on her cheeks. It’s been a while since she has had a boy in her life romantically, and even when she did, it was rare that they were this sweet to her. Lydia already knows that it is something she’s going to have to get used to. She wonders what it will be like to not constantly be looking for some sort of reassurance. 

Stiles gets out of bed first, pulling clothes out of his dresser. “I’m going to take a quick shower; you cool waiting in here for me? Feel free to make yourself feel at home.”

No, Lydia thinks, no she isn’t cool with waiting for him. But really, what is she going to do? She can’t ask him if she can sit on the toilet whilst he showers. Her fingers immediately find their way to her mouth as she starts chewing on the fingernails – a habit she seemed to only pick up recently. 

Stiles notices too, but he doesn’t say anything. He shuts his drawers and walks over, kissing her on the forehead. Lydia thinks she can get used to random kisses on the forehead. 

Lydia gets dressed in the same clothes as the night before whilst she waits for Stiles. She feels dirty too, and can’t wait to get home and shower, but she knows it must be worse for Stiles. 

She tries to busy herself so that she can’t focus on the terrible feeling sitting low in her stomach. After getting dressed, she unplugs her phone from the place next to the bed where she had it charging, and she sends a text to their group message. 

*  
Lydia: Stiles is in the shower so we should be good to go soon. Where are we meeting?

Liam: doesn’t matter to me dude i just want something to eat

Scott: thank god, i’m starving. we can meet up at chipotle? 

Malia: yessss, stiles loves chipotle. he’s probs missed it.

Lydia: Sounds good. I will let you all know when we leave.  
*

Stiles walks in moments later, his hair brushed and he’s fully dressed. He looks around his room like he’s looking for something in particular. “Shit. I don’t think I have my wallet anymore. Or my phone, for that matter.” 

“Maybe we can go after lunch and see about getting your old one replaced?” Stiles nods at that, putting his shoes on.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” 

Stiles looks over at Lydia like she’s some sort of unknown creature and says, “who the hell keeps extra toothbrushes?” 

Lydia rolls her eyes at him, “normal people, Stiles.” He laughs and she leaves to brush her teeth with her finger.

-

They arrive at Chipotle 30 minutes later and the rest of the pack is already standing in line. Stiles leads them to the back of the line, right behind Scott. Scott, Liam, Mason, and Stiles quickly start up in a conversation, and no one is surprised because the four of them talked so much before, it only makes sense that they would have so much to catch up on now. 

Lydia stays holding Stiles’ hand and realizes then that they haven’t really talked about PDA or anything relative to relationships that might be important. She’s not sure if holding hands is even something he likes doing, or wants to be doing currently, but she can’t find it in herself to let go. 

Malia must notice that she’s deep in thought because she waves her hand in front of Lydia’s face. “Lydia, you good?” 

Lydia blinks quickly to recover and smiles at Malia and replies, “yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired is all.” It’s apparent that Malia doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t push the subject further either. 

Malia does, however, question Lydia on why she’s biting her nails. 

“I uh, I just nagged a nail last night with everything that was going on and I haven’t been home to get a nail file, nor do I have my purse with me. It’s just been bugging me.” Malia seems to take this lie rather easily. 

After they get their food, they all sit down at the table. Scott is sat across from Stiles, Liam sat next to Scott, Malia next to him, and Lydia is sat next to Stiles, settling on the small touch she’s getting from his knee in close proximity to hers. 

They all catch Stiles up on what he’s missed and they try to explain the way things functioned without him, which is hard to do because at the time they didn’t ever remember a time when he was there, so comparing it is a hard task. 

Scott seems ecstatic to have his best friend back, and even Mason, who Stiles has never been the kindest to, is happy to have a crucial part of their group back. 

They talk about school and about whether or not Stiles is going to have do summer school, or if the school will even count it against him considering this happened to a multitude of students. It’s only the beginning of November, so it’s not like he missed out on much and there is still plenty of time for him to make up on it. 

They sit at Chipotle talking and catching up for another two hours before Melissa sends Scott a text asking him to come home for the night – still stressed and worrisome from the last week of craziness. 

When they all go outside to say their goodbyes, they talk together for another ten minutes. Lydia is still stood by Stiles with her arm looped around his since his hand is in his jacket pocket.

If any of them notice how Lydia hasn’t stopped touching Stiles since they got there, they don’t say it and she’s thankful. 

Lydia joins Stiles in his jeep when they go to head out and she asks him if he wants to stop by T-Mobile to see about getting his phone replaced. Her stomach drops when he says he can wait until tomorrow. 

“Don’t you think you’ll need your phone? What if one of the boys needs to talk to you? What if your dad needs to contact you?” 

Stiles laughs lightly, “I don’t think anyone will be in dire need to talk to me tonight. I can go first thing in the morning.”

The frown that finds itself on her face isn’t intentional and her fingers flee to her mouth before her mind even gets to attempt to stop the reaction. Stiles looks over at her, noticing the look on her face and that she was once again biting her nails. He squints his eyes at her and then let shis eyes wander back to the road. The jeep is quiet until he pulls into a gas station, puts his jeep in park, and then sits there. 

“What are you doing? Are you going to go inside or are you just going to sit there?” Lydia asks between going from biting her index finger to her middle finger. Stiles looks at her and gently pulls her fingers out of her mouth. 

“When did you pick up nail biting?” She wipes her hands off on her pants, a new nervous feeling sitting deep in her stomach. 

“I didn’t pick it up, I just nagged my nail and I don’t have a nail file with me,” she responds, eyes forced down on her hands in her lap. 

“Come on, Lyds, don’t lie to me. I’ve been watching you. You’ve been gnawing away at every single nail on both of your hands. What gives?”

Lydia suddenly feels like she might cry, and for the first time in years, she feels stupid. She doesn’t know why she’s getting so worked up, and she hates that it all feels like something she can’t explain. 

“I don’t – I can’t, um, I don’t want to talk about it right now, like this. I can’t… I can’t talk about it here.” She’s fumbling on her words and she hates it. It makes her feel even more stupid, which in turn makes her feel pathetic and embarrassed. 

Stiles can hear the shakiness in her voice, he can hear that she might break at any second. He’s seen Lydia at her lowest, or what he knows to be her lowest. He’s helped her through a lot, but this feels different and he isn’t sure what to do or say.

After a few seconds of only radio static in the background, he asks her, “what do you mean not here? Where do you want to go, we can go there, and we can talk about it?”

Lydia shakes her head and then runs her fingers through her hair, “I don’t want to talk about it all actually. Can you just take me home? And stay with me? Please?”

Stiles doesn’t really agree with the fact that something is clearly wrong and she won’t talk about it, but he figures if staying with her will help, then he’ll do it. So, he puts his jeep in reverse and heads back towards her place. Maybe she’s tired. He knows he is, and it’s been a really long few days for her, maybe even weeks.

He feels guilty because he doesn’t have a phone and he knows that after three months of being gone and his dad not remembering, he’d want him home. He doesn’t imagine Ms. Martin would allow him to stay the night anyway, seeing as she’s not a big fan of him, or any of Lydia’s friends. 

When they get to Lydia’s house, it’s nearing six p.m. and the sun has already gone down almost completely. They say hi to Lydia’s mom, who doesn’t seem to question Stiles being there at all, and they head upstairs to Lydia’s room. 

Lydia gets into a shirt and a pair of silk pajama bottoms and gets into her bed, Stiles climbing in behind her fully clothed minus his shoes. 

She turns her TV on and goes to Netflix, resuming a show she had been watching. Stiles laughs to himself at the fact that she didn’t bother asking if there was something he wanted to watch. He feels like it is going to a long journey of learning all of these new things about Lydia. About who Lydia Martin is when she’s in a relationship. He’s seen it multiple times, but only as an outsider. This time he’s on the inside. He smiles at that and puts him around her, pulling her in closer; it’s the first time he’s ever been the big spoon and even though his arm hurts, he pushes through it. 

“Sorry for freaking out earlier,” Lydia lets out in a really soft voice, almost a whisper. She turns a little so she’s lying on her back and he’s still on his side, his head now propped up on his hand with his elbow on the pillow. He reaches his other hand over to play with her hair. 

“Don’t worry about it. But when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. I know this thing between us is, like, still so new it barely even exists and there’s a lot we have to learn about each other, but I’m here for you. Always. Even if you’ve already changed your mind about us. I’m here for it all.” 

Lydia smiles and then punches him lightly on the chest, “I haven’t changed my mind yet, Stilinski. I just got you here, give me three more days at least.” Stiles laughs sarcastically and she giggles in return. “Really though, Stiles, I’m just exhausted.”

He nods in return like he understands, like he was right about what was wrong the whole time.

Criminal Minds is still playing on Netflix in the background but neither of them are paying attention. Stiles is looking down at Lydia, still playing with her hair. She’s looking at him too, and she gives him a small side smile. And shit, Stiles has missed that infamous smile. 

He leans down and kisses her gently at first, taking the time to memorize the shape of her lips with his own. He puts his palm on the side of her neck, his thumb reaching up to rest itself on her jaw. Lydia opens her mouth a little wider this time, and for the first time in his life he feels her tongue on his lips.

It causes a sense of longing, want, and desperation that he feels might be too early for whatever sort of relationship they currently have. 

Still, he kisses her harder – his tongue meeting hers and he feels her hands reach up and grasp onto his hair that has grown unbearably long. 

When he can feel that the kissing alone is becoming too much, Stiles pulls back and rests his head on her shoulder. 

“God, I could kiss you forever.”

And if Lydia feels like every ounce of her body is floating when he says it, then no one needs to know. 

It doesn’t take long after that for Lydia to fall asleep, halfway through an episode of Criminal Minds with Stiles behind her running his fingers up and down her arm. 

\--

When Lydia wakes up in the morning, she’s cold and she’s alone. Once her body registers that second part, she rolls over and sees the empty side of the bed where Stiles should have been. She looks over by her bedroom door and notices that his shoes are gone, and so are his keys that were on her nightstand 

Panic settles itself in the deepest pits of her stomach and she feels like she might throw up. The only comfort she finds is in the fact that she still very vividly remembers Stiles, so she knows that the Ghost Riders didn’t come back and take him in the middle of the night. 

Lydia is smart and she knows different methods to preventing actual panic attacks and she breathes slowly in and out, counting to ten. Hoping that he’s just having breakfast with her mom, Lydia flees down the stairs of her house and into the kitchen where her mom is making a cup of coffee. 

“Mom have you… have you seen Stiles at all this morning?” her mom looks over at her with a small look of concern plastered on her face. 

“Lydia, are you ok?”

“Stiles, mom. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he left last night sweetie. Told me to tell you that he couldn’t find any paper in your room to write a note. Which surprised us both really,” her mom takes a small sip of her coffee, “but he said he knew his dad would want him home, reasonably so.”

Immediately Lydia starts biting at her nails, “ok, thanks mom. I uh, I’m going to drive over to his house, make sure he’s ok. He doesn’t have a phone, you know, so I really do need to check up on him.” 

Lydia runs back upstairs and slips on the first pair of shoes she can find, which just so happen to be slippers. She grabs her keys and a jacket and runs downstairs.

“Lydia, sweetheart, you’re in your slippers.” 

Lydia rolls her eyes, “yes mom, I am very aware, but I have to go. I will be back later tonight.” 

“You have school tomorrow, so don’t be too late!” Lydia barely hears her mom remind her about school tomorrow because she’s out the door so quickly. 

The entire drive to his house she’s trying to tell herself not to be angry with him. She shouldn’t expect him to know the feeling she has when he’s not around, and it really isn’t his fault that she didn’t wake up knowing he wasn’t going to be there. But she still feels some sort of disappointment in him leaving like that, which does make her feel a little angry. She will just have to remember not to take it out on him.

Pulling into his driveway she notices that his jeep is gone and her panic settles itself even deeper, like it has decided it might as well just camp there in her stomach, leaving her feeling like shit. 

The anger doesn’t subside then either. She looks at the clock on her car and she notices it’s nine a.m. and she really isn’t sure where he’d be at nine in the morning.

She feels crazy, like she’s being irrationally clingy, but she doesn’t know how to explain to herself that it isn’t that she wants to be around him, but needs to be around him because her lungs feel like they’re closing up inside of her when he isn’t there and it’s hard to breathe. 

Lydia hasn’t a clue what to do, so she pulls out of his driveway, holding back sobs, and drives to Scott’s as quickly as she can without breaking the law. 

She doesn’t see Stiles’ jeep there either, but she really doesn’t know what else to do. She gets out of her car and speed walks to Scott’s front door and knocks as hard as she can, feeling guilty only for a brief moment that it’s nine in the morning on a Sunday. 

Melissa is the one that opens the door. “Lydia? Hun, what’s wrong?”

Lydia breaks down crying, violent sobs leaving her body. 

“I don’t, god, I just, I don’t, I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe anymore.”

Melissa pulls Lydia into her house and shuts the door behind her. 

“Ok Lydia, come on, come have a seat on the couch and I will get you some water.”

Lydia obeys and plants herself on the couch, trying to quiet her sobs but she’s choking on them and she can’t get herself to stop and the breathing in and out isn’t helping and she doesn’t know what to do. She feels powerless, and it’s such a rare feeling for her these days.

Melissa comes back with the water and sees Lydia sitting on the couch with her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, her knuckles turning white from grasping so hard.

It doesn’t take long for Scott to come downstairs, clearly having just woken up. Apparently, his hyper hearing works when he’s asleep too, and a crying Lydia woke him pretty early. He goes and sits himself on the couch on the other side of Lydia. 

He looks at his mom with a questioning look and Melissa just shrugs.

Scott puts his hand on her back and asks her, “what do you need from us Lydia? What’s going on? We want to help you, but we don’t know what’s happening.”

Lydia tries to slow her breathing once more, at least enough to talk. She doesn’t know why it feels like she can’t breathe when she’s clearly breathing too hard to even speak. She shakes her head and wipes at her eyes, hoping that if she keeps the sleeves of her sweater there it would stop her tears. 

“Fuck!” She’s frustrated because she can’t speak and now she’s flustered because she just cussed in front of Scott’s mom. She’s very careful about her language around her elders. 

“Do you – do you want me to try to get ahold of Stiles? Will that help?” Scott asks, standing up from the couch. When Lydia nods vigorously, Scott walks into the kitchen and dials Mr. Stilinski’s number. 

It rings three times before he answers. 

“What can I do ya for, Scott?”

“Is Stiles with you by any chance?” Scott is pacing through the kitchen, the sound of his mom trying to soothe Lydia in the background. 

“Yeah, we’re trying to get his new phone set up. Did you need to talk to him?”

Scott nods quickly before realizing that he’s on the phone and Mr. Stilinski most definitely cannot see him nodding. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind.”

Seconds later Stiles is on the phone, asking Scott what he needs.

“We uh, we have a slight problem.” Scott looks over into the living room and sees that Lydia has now moved down to the floor, her knees still pulled up to her chest, and she’s rocking back forth, showing no sign of slowing down her crying any time soon. “I’m calling you because I think you’re Lydia’s anchor, and she is…” he trails off, not used to seeing Lydia like this.

Lydia is the strong one. She’s the one that pulls them together and always knows what to do and how to do them. The only other time he has ever seen her this undone was when she was in Eichen. 

“What’s wrong with Lydia, Scott?” There’s a strong sense of worry in Stiles’ voice, “tell me what’s happening? Is she ok? She was fine last night, what’s wrong?”

“I think… I think she’s having a panic attack. My mom is trying to help, and I tried helping, and nothing is working. She’s just crying. She asked me to call you, I think you’re her anchor and I think that you’re the only thing that will help.”

It’s silent over the phone for brief moment before, “shit, Scott. I’m with my dad, I drove us here in the jeep. These phone things take forever, I can’t.. I can’t leave him here.”

Scott thinks for a second and says, “what if I came to pick you up? Your dad can finish the phone thing and then drive himself home. One of us can give you a ride home later.”

They agree to that plan and after Scott hangs up the phone, he heads back into the living room and kneels down to Lydia’s level. “I’m going to go pick up Stiles, ok? I’ll be back in 15 minutes tops. Do you think you’ll be ok here with my mom until I get back?” 

Lydia looks up briefly to nod and then she puts her head back into her knees. Scott walks out the door with the keys to his mom’s car and starts the car as quickly as he can. 

Melissa stays sitting on the floor next to Lydia, one hand playing with Lydia’s hair and the other rubbing her arm. “I know that telling you to breathe clearly isn’t helping, but just try to keep controlling your breathing ok? Everything is going to be ok; whatever is going on right now, it’s all going to be ok.”

Lydia tries to block everything out and just listen to Melissa’s voice. She remembers the time she helped Stiles through his panic attack, and she remembers how she did it. She knows that slowing your breathing and focusing on it is supposed to help. But it isn’t helping her. Neither is just listening to Melissa speak. Her mind is focused only on the knotted feeling in her stomach and how helpless and pathetic she feels because she can’t stop crying over Stiles. She promised herself that she would never cry over a boy ever again, and yet here she is. 

“Do you want to try to talk about it? Tell me what started this?” Melissa has seen stuff like this happen all the time, but it isn’t her level of expertise. Usually when this happens at the hospital, they page the Psych unit. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Lydia shakes her head now and grips onto herself tighter before whispering, “Stiles.”

“I know sweetie, Scott is getting Stiles, they’ll be back soon ok?”

The two sit there and Lydia continues crying whilst Melissa plays with her hair, remembering how comforting she found it when her mom played with hers when she was younger. 

Ten minutes later the door flies open and Stiles runs in and squats down next to Lydia, lifting her head up and pushing the hair out of her face. Melissa stands up and backs away to give them space, Scott slowly walking up and standing next to her. 

Lydia’s eyes remain closed, even as Stiles lifts her head up. “Lyds, open your eyes for me. I’m here, it’s Stiles and I’m here. Look at me, ok?” 

Lydia knows it’s Stiles, but for some reason she is still scared to open her eyes. Scared of the reality of it all. Scared to tell anyone what she’s feeling and why she’s feeling this way. After Stiles proceeds to beg, she finally opens her eyes and chokes out another sob when she sees him. 

Stiles leans forward and wraps his arms tightly around Lydia. He notices that she pulls him closer and hangs on tightly to him as well. She mutters a soft, “tighter, please” in his ear. He pulls her in even tighter. Stiles’ panic attacks are stopped by holding his breath, hers are stopped by pressure and human contact. They both store that away for the future. 

It takes a few minutes of squeezing her before she finally calms down enough to stop crying and actually focus on her breathing. She doesn’t want to admit that once she saw his face, she immediately felt better – the knots in her stomach slowly unraveling themselves. 

Stiles helps to stand her up and sit her on the couch and he takes the cushion on the left of her. He’s holding her hands on her lap, rubbing his thumb back and forth on her hand. 

“You want to tell me what that was about? What’s been going on? I know it’s only been like not even 48 hours, but I know this isn’t normal Lydia Martin behavior.” Stiles lifts his eyes to look over at Scott, who is sharing a look of concern with his mom. 

“I don’t.. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me” Lydia replies, and it comes out in such a light and shaky voice, Stiles swears his heart breaks right in half. 

Lydia removes one of her hands from Stiles’ and starts to chew at her nails. Stiles pulls his lower lip into his mouth and reaches over to remove her hand from her own mouth. 

Stiles gives her hands a little squeeze, “you know we’re all here for you right? We just want to make sure everything is ok. Scott said you weren’t like this before we took down the Wild Hunt. Does it have to do with that?”

Lydia breathes in and looks up at the ceiling, closes her eyes, and exhales deeply. “I am not weak. I am not a weak person.”

Stiles seems at a loss for words. He knows Lydia isn’t weak. He probably knows that more than anyone. Lydia is the strongest of any of them. Maybe not physically, but mentally. 

“Needing help doesn’t make you weak,” he pauses briefly, “nobody here thinks you’re weak. Nobody in their right mind would.”

She sighs in frustration, upset that the words coming out of her mouth are not being comprehended correctly by her friends. “That’s not what I mean. I mean I am intelligent and independent, and I am not weak,” more tears leak from her eyes, “but I can’t explain what I’ve been feeling. How empty and fucking terrified I get any time I even think of not being around you.” 

Stiles reaches up to wipe away the tears that are rolling down her face. 

“And I’m not like this. I’m not clingy, so don’t think that I am. I really am independent. But every time you walk out of the room, it’s like I can’t breathe. I feel it all in the pit of my stomach and it aches, and nothing helps. This morning when I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought... I just thought the worst. You could have been taken again and it was so freaking hard to get you back and the thought of you leaving again, it terrifies me.”

Stiles is once again left feeling unsure of what to say. He hates seeing Lydia like this – broken and afraid. He bites his lip and looks up at Scott and Melissa, hoping for some help. 

Melissa bends down in front of Lydia, placing a hand on her knee. “I don’t really deal with this stuff much, and I’m not a professional in mental health, but it sounds like you could be dealing with some sort of separation anxiety. It would make sense, seeing as what you’ve been through these last few months. It might help to talk to someone about it – a professional maybe.”

Lydia chokes on a sob and lays her head down in her hands, slightly pulling at her hair in anger and confusion. Stiles rubs her back for her a few seconds before she turns to look at him and says, “I don’t want to have to talk to anyone. I just want to be happy that you’re back and have that be enough. I hate that I can’t even feel happy because I’m so scared all the time and I don’t even know how to describe the pain I feel when you’re not around.”

Stiles opens his mouth to speak, but Scott cuts in first, “it’s anxiety. What you’re feeling. I can smell it on you. I could smell it before I even walked downstairs.” 

Melissa spoke lightly, her hand still on Lydia’s knee for comfort, “Lydia, sweetie, I can give you a referral to a great therapist. I used to go and see her when Scott’s dad and I first got divorced. I think it might really benefit you.”

Lydia nods but doesn’t say anything else. She curls herself into Stiles’ side and he wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead. Stiles, Scott, and Melissa are all exchanging worried looks with one another. 

Melissa is the first to break the silence. “I’m going to go send an email to Dr. Dunbar. He will be able to write the referral today and fax it over so they can call Lydia, get an appointment set up.” The boys nod and Melissa walks upstairs. 

The next few minutes are so silent and unmoving that Stiles wonders if Lydia fell asleep. It isn’t until she sits up and pushes her hair behind her ear that they know she’s just been composing herself. 

She smiles at the boys, as if nothing was wrong and nothing had ever happened and says, “well, I would like to go home, if that’s ok with you both.”

The boys once again only nod, both bewildered as to how she can manage to pick herself up that quickly and easily. The only trace of her panic attack are her red eyes. 

“Do you want me to drive you back? I uh, I’m not too sure you should be driving yourself home right now.” Stiles asks this with hesitancy. He knows from experience with Malia that a woman’s emotions are not to be messed with, and it’s good to be extremely careful when speaking if you’re not sure where they stand. Or maybe Malia was just different, seeing as she hadn’t been human for a vast majority of her life.

Lydia stops in her tracks, halfway to the door, and looks back at Stiles with a hand on her hip and says, “don’t play stupid, Stilinski. Of course you’re driving me,” and she continues to walk towards and out the door.

Stiles looks over at Scott, a small smile on his face. “That’s my girl. Thanks for calling and coming to pick me up Scotty.”

They do a handshake and Stiles leaves, following Lydia who is already in the passenger seat. 

The first few minutes of the drive are silent aside from the music playing very quietly on the radio. Stiles isn’t sure what to say and is a little scared to say anything after seeing how her mood had changed so quickly. 

Lydia, however, feels like she has a lot to say, but is unsure how to say it or where to start. She decides to go with, “so we’re not going to talk about this ever again, ok? We’re going to pretend it never happened and go about our lives and I will try very hard to be less… worrisome over you. Got it?”

Stiles’ eyes widen and he glances over at her. “Um no actually, I don’t got it. This is one hundred percent something we need to talk about. Lydia, you had a full-blown panic attack over waking up and me not being there. And I really don’t want to be crass here, but there are going to be a lot of mornings when you wake up or go to bed and I’m not there. What are you going to do then?”

Stiles pulls into Lydia’s driveway and turns the car off, though neither of them make any move towards getting out of the car. They both very clearly have a lot to say. 

“I know that, Stiles. I am not stupid. I don’t live in some fairytale dream where I think you’re going to be there with me every second of every day. I will work on it on my own – work on getting better and relying more on just knowing you’re nearby as opposed to needing you with me. I also don’t plan on being this crazy, clingy girl for you. That’s what I was for Jackson and I’m not doing that again. I don’t need you, and I don’t want to make it seem like I do. I just, I need you to be safe and I need to know you’re safe. So I will work on it, I promise. And if you end up hating all of me because of this, I get that too.”

Stiles feels shocked and speechless. That’s a lot to take in, and he’s kind of hurt at her I don’t need you comment, as well as her even thinking that he’d hate her or any part of her. He’s waited years to even have her by his side at all; he’s not letting go of her any time soon, if ever. 

He rubs at his eyes before saying, “first of all, I don’t think you need me. I don’t think you’re crazy and I don’t think you’re clingy. And if you are clingy, I don’t give a fuck, Lydia. I’ve been on the sidelines, watching you for years. Please, be fucking clingy. I can text you all day, every day. Whatever you need me to do in this whole process, I will do it. I just hate seeing you this anxious. I’m the ball of anxiety, not you. It’s not for you. We’re going to get you help. Melissa is getting that referral and then—”

Lydia cuts him off before he can finish, “I am not seeing a therapist or a psychiatrist, Stiles. I’m not going back to Eichen. And that’s where they’ll send me.”

Stiles’ eyes soften. He wants her to get help and to see someone, but he also knows how sensitive this stuff is for her after everything that has happened. 

“Nobody is going to send you back to Eichen. Melissa wouldn’t give a referral to anyone that sends you there. And you know your mom will never send you back there. And even if anyone tried, we wouldn’t let them.” He pauses to pull her fingers from her lips before continuing, “I hated seeing you like that today. And if you don’t want to talk about it for the rest of the day, or even tomorrow, we don’t have to. You don’t have to talk to me about it ever again, but I think you should talk to someone.”

Lydia gives him a small smile, in awe of the boy sitting across from her. 

“Lyds, I’ve had terrible anxiety for years. It can be paralyzing and scary. If we can find a way to avoid this for you, then I want to do that.”

She nods at him in response and says, “ok, I’ll set up an appointment as soon as I get the call from Ms. McCall’s therapist. Just, please don’t give up on me yet.”

He scoffs and leans over the middle console to kiss her. As he pulls away, he mutters against her lips, “when have I ever been known to give up on Lydia Martin?”


End file.
